Page 16 of Rugged Hero

The tender look in Bridget’s eyes nearly makes me cry like a baby. “Is this why you wear those big sweats to yoga?” she asks softly.

I nod and swallow hard past the lump of fear in my throat, forcing myself to meet Bridget’s gaze. “Yes. I always cover up my scars. I wouldn’t blame you if you were repulsed.” Slowly, I trail my fingertips over the worst of the gnarled flesh with a grimace. “I’ve been prayin’ you might be able to see past them. That somehow, you could find it in your heart to love me. Scars and all.”

The words leave me in a rush, scraped raw from my battered heart. I’ve never felt so exposed, so vulnerable.

Bridget steps closer. Her gentle hands rise to cup my weathered face, her touch soothing the ragged edges of my anguish. She holds my searching gaze, her own fierce with emotion.

“You’re so much more than your scars to me, Moses,” she vows, her melodic voice tender yet insistent. “Your resilience, your courage...that’s real. That’s what I see when I look at you.”

Her thumbs stroke my stubbled cheeks as she continues. “I see the real you, the man beneath the scars. And I love who you are, Moses, not how you look. You will always be a hero in my eyes, and your scars...they’re a reminder of that. Of your strength.”

Devotion swells within me, so intense I can barely breathe. I crush my mouth to Bridget’s in a searing, needful kiss, one hand tangling in her auburn curls as the other splays across her back to haul her luscious curves against me.

I pour everything into that kiss–all the feelings I don’t have words for, the soul-deep yearning only she can fulfill. I need her to know that she’s reignited parts of me I thought were long dead.

Bridget matches my passion with her own, her lush curves molding to my harder planes as our tongues dance and probe. Her delicate hands map my bared torso, gliding over ridged scars and corded muscle without hesitation.

My heart pounds like a war drum in my chest. I’ve never been touched like this, cherished despite my mangled flesh. It’s exhilarating and terrifying all at once.

Tearing my lips from hers with a ragged groan, I lead Bridget into the fire lookout. The space is cozy, barely big enough for a bed, a chair, and a wood stove. But it’s enough. More than enough when she looks at me like I’m her whole world.

“I need you,” I rumble low in my throat, reaching for the hem of her shirt with trembling fingers.

We undress each other with aching slowness, revealing flesh gradually until we’re bared to the raw night air and our smoldering gazes. I guide her onto the bed, my bulk caging her smaller frame.

Bridget is my solace. My sanctuary.

She is my hero.

CHAPTER 9

BRIDGET

As I stand naked before Moses, my whole body flushes and trembles. For the first time, I don’t feel an ounce of shame or self-consciousness about my curvy body. His smoldering gaze runs over me appreciatively, making me feel desirable and truly “enough.”

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, voice low and thick with desire.

My eyes drop to his impressive erection, thick and hard. I inhale sharply, my core aching with desire at the thought of feeling him inside me.

Tentatively, I trace the jagged scars etched across his muscular chest and abdomen, marveling at the intricate tattoos usually hidden beneath his clothes. His breath hitches at my gentle touch.

I step closer, lowering my head to tenderly kiss each mark and imperfection. A shudder runs through him. Glancing up, I’m struck by the raw vulnerability shining in his intense eyes, a window to his wounded yet beautiful soul.

“Bridget...” he breathes, his voice trembling with emotion.

Emboldened, I press my naked body flush against him, reveling in the electric slide of skin on skin. He groans, calloused hands gripping my hips. Our mouths meet in a searing kiss, tongues tangling sensually. Desire coils tighter in my belly.

I need him, all of him. Now.

I look up into his eyes, raw and vulnerable. “You’re beautiful,” I whisper.

He shakes his head. “Not like you.” His voice is gruff.

I press against him, feeling the hardness of his cock against my belly. “You’re beautiful to me.”

Moses groans and crushes his mouth to mine. Our tongues tangle as my core throbs with want. I grind against him, my core slick and aching to feel him deep inside me.

Moses lays me on his bed, his body pressing me into the mattress.

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